


Artistry in the Classics

by RobinsGirlWonder



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 00:46:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13155588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinsGirlWonder/pseuds/RobinsGirlWonder
Summary: A gift for ladyofthenyxx for this year's WonderTrev Secret Santa exchange! Please enjoy the gift, a tale of Diana in her day job in art restoration, while A.R.G.U.S. Agent Steve Trevor attempts to distract her, but Diana wishes to teach him a very important lesson about the finer points of art. Or so he thinks.





	Artistry in the Classics

 

The British Museum was closing. As the evening had grown closer, exhibits had been roped off, patrons escorted out. Most of the museum’s historians and art restorers had gone home, save for a single soul carefully brushing dust from between the fingers of a lover. Two lovers, in fact. 

Diana Prince was quite focused on Rodin’s  _ The Kiss _ , a marble sculpture that had been loaned to the British Museum for the next six months on a limited engagement. The silence of the empty museum had oftentimes been the most cherished of meditative experiences for her. In fact, it had been the only thing to help her sort through her inner turmoil over the last year as she had found herself inexplicably within the orbit of one Steve Trevor. 

Same face. 

Same laugh. 

Same smile. 

And same profession. 

Leave it to her family, the newly risen gods, to find order in the chaos of the universe to send Steve Trevor back to her. His memories were still foggy, but they had picked up… roughly where they had left off. After she plucked him out of a Quraci weapons silo, the two of them had quickly gone from casual acquaintances to the careful dance of learning each other all over again. But, in many ways, it meant they had plenty of time to learn aspects of each other that there hadn’t been time for in war-torn Europe.

As she sensed him approaching from the other side of the now empty restoration lab, she was reminded of one of the few realistic faults that she had learned about this new Steve Trevor: he did not appreciate art. Even in her first days on Man’s World, Steve was a spy, a man of practicality and reason. He did not profess a love of the classics, but at least he enjoyed  _ A Princess of Mars _ and  _ The Wizard of Oz.  _

Steve Trevor, A.R.G.U.S. agent and leader of the Oddfellows special forces group had spent the last week trying to convince Diana to take a break from her restoration.

“You know, I actually enjoy my day job,” She said, more than happy to shatter his illusion that he was sneaking up on her. The smile on her face should have been enough to give his position away.

Steve’s footsteps came to a halt and sighed, a bit dramatically shot down.  “You know, Angel, I wasn’t suggesting you don’t like your job, I was just - “

Diana stood straight, turning to face him as she went to deposit her brushes back on her tray. “Just that you think I enjoy it too much?” The argument had gone on all week, a friendly game of wits as he tried to get her to take a few days away so they could explore their relationship further. 

“No, but… I’m starting to think you enjoy these dusty things more than having dinner with me.” 

At some point, it had become incredibly clear to Diana that Steve’s interests were purely out of a personal desire to spend time with her without distraction. Their last few dates had been interrupted with everything from League business in Gotham to a hydra. A literal hydra. His frustration and hers had been the same, only Diana had learned patience in her many years on the earth. It wasn’t his fault that he simply had not had as much time to learn how to wait as she had. 

It did mean that she had begun to weave a very careful pattern of stolen glances and  _ just _ missed phone calls to remind Steve that she was there, but that he had to be willing to go to her. 

The more responsible part of her realized it was a bit childish to play at being difficult to reach, but she had to admit that it was alluring and satisfying to see Steve show up, even when he knew she might not be able to spend time with him after all. She’d been distracted all week - both fabricated distractions and legitimate ones - and she knew it was taking a toll on both of them. 

As she gave him a long, appraising look under the guise of clearly trying to come up with a retort, she drank in his appearance. A full week of being passing ships in the night, and she was starting to think he’d worn that dark denim shirt simply because he knew it would make his eyes impossibly blue. He clearly was not there in an official capacity, and he was doing everything he could to present himself as someone at her disposal. 

“I will have you know that these ‘dusty things’ are quite enjoyable.” She remarked, pushing her cart away. “This collection on loan from various museums across Europe is going to be revealed next week, and I take great joy in knowing that others will see the beauty I have.” 

“You keep saying that, but why look at statues of goddesses when I could see the real thing.” The compliment slipped from his lips without hesitation. It wasn’t until his brain caught up with his mouth that he cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m just saying, they can’t really… stimulate the senses, that’s all.” 

“I cannot disagree more.” 

Steve glanced up at her, visibly confused. “Seriously?” 

The smile that spread across Diana’s features was a bit more mischievous than he probably knew to be on the lookout for. He had spent the last week wondering what had kept her interest, but had sought her out nonetheless. Perhaps his patience and persistence deserved reward. One that would stick with him any time he stepped foot into the museum.

“It’s the hands.” She stated, simple and effective. Now that he was here, the scheme had formed in her mind with the same level of cleverness that would have made Hermes proud. 

Steve furrowed his brow, clearly perplexed before he slowly repeated, rolling the word around in his mouth: “Hands…” 

“Yes. To sculpt marble is a skill that requires significant finesse.”  Diana crooked a finger at him, motioning for him to come closer. She fought a smile as he obliged, although clearly not impressed. When they reached the statue, she motioned to the marble fingers she had been cleaning. “Not only did these sculptors see the world with such detail that they could sculpt the curve of his fingers on her thigh, he even knew how to apply pressure.” 

Steve tilted his head, falling silent at her observation. For a long moment, he clearly considered what she said, even pulling one of his hands from his pockets so he could flex his fingers and then glance down at the statue. “I never really thought about it like that…” When his blue eyes slowly rose towards her, he almost seemed a bit sheepish. “To be honest, I’m just glad when we can prevent these things from getting blown up on an op. Because it’s history, so I know it should be important.” 

“And they  _ are _ important, but they’re also deeply personal.” Diana found it charming that he was so clueless about this subject. There was great depth within him, but he was so determined to keep it hidden. 

While Diana and Steve had once shared a bed in another life, fueled by a desperate need for connection in the present, she had taken her time with Steve. Unfortunately, she was finding it nearly impossible not to turn every thought towards spending time alone with him, so she could find a reason to pull open his shirt and re-examine all of his features. 

But, it had to be on her terms. And not simply because she wanted it to be, but because Steve had never once pushed her. It was almost as if he was waiting for the silent cue that she was ready. In the meantime, though, he had done everything he could do come to her, attempt to pull her from every obstacle she had thrown at him, and still did it with an open mind. 

That mischievous edge wondered how far she could push him before he’d buckle and ask for what he clearly wanted.

“You don’t seem convinced,” She continued, biting her lip so she wouldn’t laugh at his thoroughly offended expression. “Let me show you our showcase pieces, and perhaps i will teach you a bit of culture, Steve Trevor.” 

Diana clasped her hand in his and steered him into an adjacent room of the museum.  

Once they were through the threshold, she shut the door to the lab behind them before walking him over to a sculpture on loan from the American Metropolitan museum. “Chauncey Ives. This work is Undine Rising from the Waters.” Diana shifted so that Steve could face the statue, then slipped behind him, pointing over his shoulder at the detail. “You can see the way the fabric caresses and sticks to her skin, just as if she had truly stepped out of the water.” She was only half-aware that she had begun to mutter into his ear, as if sharing the secret congress of the gods and their artisans. “It’s such an… intimate understanding, with a level of care to the marble itself, to truly know how that should cling and give.” 

With a bit of a smile, DIana reached out to brush her fingers against the two buttons at his collar. “You unbutton one of these,” she expertly undid one of the white buttons and let his collar fall open. “And now you have an unpredictable, curvaceous piece of fabric to somehow immortalize in stone.” 

Steve took a deep breath against her, one that suggested he’d been holding his breath without realizing. He cleared his throat, a bit louder than he probably meant to. “That’s…” His voice had vanished, so he swallowed and looked at the statue, then over to her, then immediately back at the statue. It was as if he couldn’t find any place to look that didn’t make him acutely aware of his proximity to Diana. “That does take serious attention to detail, yes.” 

“Not just that.” She replied easily, smiling and shifting so she was more in front of him. “As an artist, half of the fun is in what you do  _ not _ show. Learning when you need all of the buttons undone…” Her hand started to drift down towards his stomach, then stopped. “Or just the one.”  She finished simply.

The look on Steve’s face suggested that he had not been sure what to expect, but her pivot to another “lesson” allowed him a moment to breathe. 

Diana took his hand and lead him slowly over to the Bernini collection they had been loaned. “Gian Lorenzo Bernini. On the other hand,” She came to a halt at a statue known to most art aficionados.  _ The Rape of Proserpina _ was a presumably predictable mis-telling of Persephone’s affair with Hades, but it demonstrated Bernini’s skill with aplomb. “Here was a man who knew how to set fire to the mind with the simplest detail.” 

Steve glanced over at her, seemingly thrown by her momentary pause in her lesson. If he had realized that this was anything other than another test of his patience and self-control, he was hiding it very well. The fact that he had silently closed the distance between them a bit more made her grin. His mind might have not figured it out, but his body was moving exactly where she wanted it to. At times such as these, it brought to mind Clio’s Treatises. One of her criticisms of men actually gave Diana a bit of a thrill. Men desired control. Amazons desired control. Therefore, any sexual act would be fraught with conflict. 

But, so was a friendly sparring match. That was what made it so blood pumping and passionate. 

“If Ives knew how to caress fabric against a woman’s bare skin, then Bernini knew how to make you feel as thought you had been lifted on high by a god.” Diana motioned to the hands clasping Proserpina’s thigh and lower back. “That level of detail is the sort of thing that sets my mind on fire while I’m here.” 

She allowed him a moment to take in the artistry. She could see the shift in Steve’s expression as he caught the details, the way that Pluto’s fingers pressed into the soft flesh of Proserpina's thigh.

“You ask why I get distracted, and this is why.” She said softly. “It constantly makes me think.” 

Steve tore his gaze from the statue, looking to Diana with genuine, complete interest. “Oh? About what?” 

He was wrapped around her little finger. Steve had gone from not caring about art at all to having a glint of hunger in his eye, wanting to know how Diana thought and felt. 

Diana closed the distance between them so that she could take her hand in his, holding it between them as she ran her fingers along the back of his hand. “I find myself consumed with the images such artistry conjures.” Glancing up at him, she reached over and unbuttoned the second button. Her finger intentionally brushed against the skin on his collar. “I wonder if it was as torturous for the artist as it is for me to wonder what is beyond the second, or the third button…”  

“Are we… still talking about Bernini?” Steve asked, his tone a mixture of genuine perplexity and the gradual realization that she knew  _ exactly _ what she was invoking in him. He shifted from one foot to the other, as if suddenly uncomfortable. Yet, he still remained just as close to her. In fact, he stepped a little closer. 

“Bernini was a master of hands, of touch…” Diana practically purred as she moved his hand to her waist, placing it there with purpose. The understanding blossomed on his face, immediately followed by a furtive look around the museum. She didn’t let him think too much about it. Instead, she took his chin in her hand and gently made him look at her again. “You should pay attention when someone’s giving you a lesson.” 

Steve’s mouth worked for a long moment before he finally offered, clearly nervous. “Yeah, I’m getting the impression this is not the kind of lesson I was thinking it was. Is this really the place for this?” He tried to take a step back, but Diana gripped his shirt and held fast. 

“You asked the question, I’m giving you an answer.” She muttered, conspiratorial and mischievous. “We have spent a full week not seeing each other. But, that doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking of you.” Diana paused, gently loosening her grip to give him one more opportunity to step away if he really didn’t want to see this through. “But, if this is too much for you... “ 

Steve’s response was immediate and comically effective. “Nope, I can go with this!” He blurted out in a husky rush, completely abandoning any sense of self-control. “This is definitely not too much for me, you’re just…” Whatever smooth line he had in his mind abandoned him as Diana’s hand began to unbutton his shirt further. “ _ Intense... _ ” He finished lamely. 

“My people are passionate, and we aren’t ashamed of our bodies. Or what they can do.” Diana finished unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it free from his jeans as she kept talking. “Just read  _ Lysistrata. _ ” 

Steve shivered under her touch, then made a move to lower his head to hers. 

Anticipating that, Diana couldn’t help but stretch the anticipation a bit more. “Where was I?” She asked, pulling back just enough so that her fingers were grazing against his bare stomach, but her lips were far out of reach.

Steve’s look of loss and slight frustration was answer enough for her. 

Diana mouthed a silent “oh”, as if her train of thought had returned to her, then glanced down to take in the sculpted muscles she had freed. “Bernini was a master of touch,” She began again, more than satisfied to see that Steve’s gaze had followed hers. He was now watching her hand intently. “The amount of skill needed to know the amount of pressure to apply on flesh to make it give… the way that he must have calculated how desperately Hades wished for Persephone to take hold of her.” Diana’s hand rested on his side, holding firmly enough that his flesh gave around her fingers just a little, enough to make the point. 

“Such a desperate, wanton desire,” She breathed, tugging Steve a bit closer to her. “It would have been sudden and passionate. Grappling of hands and flesh.” Finally, Diana raised her gaze once more to Steve’s face. He was watching her intently, those blue eyes of his soft, as if he was in awe of her. At her mercy. She tilted her head closer to him, letting her lips brush against his as she whispered. “And the artist froze that moment in time, slowed it down to the space between heartbeats…” 

Steve barely managed to breathe her name before she met the distance between them. 

She kissed him, her lips caressing his as if to remind him of the pact that they had made so long ago. They may have only found each other again in the last year, but Diana could think of no better way to reward Steve’s patience and resilience than to prove to him that he was truly the greatest masterpiece to hold her interest. 

Her hips rocked against his as she kept him close, eliciting a groan from him that she barely muffled. In the time that she had been talking, he had started out oblivious, but had most certainly learned the intent of her “lessons”. Another rock of her hips, another groan, and the bulge in his pants grew even more prominent. 

Their kiss broke apart only so that the two of them could breathe, but Diana was already thinking of her next move. She reached down and looped a finger into the waist of his pants, then pulled him with her. They backpedaled to another door in the back of the restoration room; her own personal office. 

“I thought you didn’t get ashamed of this kind of thing…” Steve teased, momentarily aware of what Diana had already learned about him: he wanted the  _ illusion _ that he was in control around her. Quips were an effective way to do that. 

“I’m not,” She said with a smile, opening the door and pulling him in. No sooner than the door was closed, she pressed him up against it. “But, nothing in here is expensive and out on the tables.” 

Steve balked, jaw slack and his ears actually flushing slightly pink.  All he could manage was a stupified, “Oh… Right.”  

She wasn’t exactly a control freak. Diana could allow the world to pass around her, to let actions take their course. But, when it came to her pleasure, she preferred to be her own mistress. She had every intention of extending that to Steve. As if to give him an inkling of that fact, her hand expertly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. Slowly, she slipped her hand beneath the denim material that had most likely begun to grow painfully uncomfortable. Once her hand found its mark, running her fingers along his length drew another low groan out of him. The sound made her pulse quicken, sending a very real sensation that resonated down her stomach to land between her legs. But, she wanted to focus on the task at hand. 

“You see, I know you didn’t care much for art,” Diana breathed, beginning to stroke him a bit more earnestly, but still teasing him. “But now, every time you look at a marble statue and see one of those hands gripping…” Her fingers slipped under his boxers, taking him in her hand so that she could feel how much he was already straining for her. “Then you will have an erection so powerful and distracting that Priapus himself would feel sorry for you.” 

Steve groaned again, hands reaching for anything they could. Diana quickly used her free hand to rest one of his hands on her shoulder, then caught the other so she could bring it to her lips. The closer they remained, the more her heart pounded. Each one of his long exhales as she slowly drew him further and further from rational thought ghosted against her skin and only made her arousal more difficult to ignore. 

“Diana,  _ please _ …” She had a feeling he had no idea what he was asking for, just that he needed her to provide it.

Her lips brushed against the pads of his fingers as she kept up her slow, arduous torture of his senses. “Did you need something, Steve?”  When all she got was another frustrated groan and his hand on her shoulder kneaded firmly, Diana couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. She’d been wanting to have him at her mercy for months, to show him precisely how much she loved him, their new memories together and their old. Her hands moved to pull his jeans down further. “Because, I can guarantee you that I don’t give any one of those statues more attention than I’ve been  _ wanting _ to give you for the last week.”

Steve huffed, clearly able to breathe and think for a moment without her hand on his cock. “You don’t have to do anything…” He muttered, hands moving to start unzipping her red dress. “On my account…” He finally finished, as if he hadn’t realized that his mind was moving at half-speed. 

Diana finished letting his jeans fall to the floor, then reached up to take hold of his open shirt and pull it off his shoulders until it, too, was cast aside. As she did so, it forced his hands off of her zipper, allowing her a little more time to keep her focus on his pleasure, on the reward she had already envisioned for his perseverance. 

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” Diana said as she gently splayed a hand against his chest and pushed him back into the door. It was firm for a mortal, but she made it seem effortless, as per usual. 

Steve glanced down at her hand, then back up, holding his own up on either side in a silent surrender to her. When she smiled, he simply shrugged and shook his head a bit, as if to say he knew better than to argue with her.

Satisfied he would be staying put, Diana leaned close and pressed her lips to his neck, then down towards his shoulder. Her fingers took their time, examining the lines of his muscles, unabashedly appreciating the way Steve Trevor had been built and forged into the man he was.

Her lips travelled further south, her fingers still teasing the occasional sensitive spot that made his breath hitch in response. As her lips made their way towards his collarbone, her hand drifted to his erection again. Her fingers brushed across his head with careful practice and skill, before she gripped him and began to stroke with the same torturous pace that her lips continued moving lower.

She wanted him to feel more than appreciated. She wanted him to feel  _ cared _ for, as if he, too, was a work of art that had been bereft of a delicate touch. Diana would brush every line with her fingers. Her lips would caress his skin until he remembered that, much like those masterpieces outside, Diana was a wellspring of passion and desire, carefully wrapped up in a poised, graceful persona. 

Diana sank to her knees after a long moment, grateful for the plush rug underfoot. For the first time since she had begun her careful attention, she spared a glance back upwards. 

Steve’s gaze was clouded with lust and want, but the moment she settled down beneath him, his eyes widened in surprise. His hips moved of their own accord, rocking into her hand gently as the thought of something even more divine made him twitch in her hand. 

Not that she intended to be even more of a tease, but Diana bit her bottom lip and quirked an eyebrow up at him, as if she had  _ no _ idea why he seemed to be such a mess of emotions. 

“Angel…” He breathed, both plea and prayer. 

Thankfully, she was a benevolent torturer, if only because she could feel the growing warmth between her legs reminding her that there was still more to go. The way he breathed her name after his first plea went unheard made Diana’s hips squirm on their own. 

Pretense was officially to be thrown aside, because her infinite patience was wearing thin. 

For Steve, she almost felt sorry for him. One moment, her hand was stroking his length, and the next, her mouth had slowly enveloped him in wet, velvet heat and sensation. 

His groan was one of ultimate satisfaction, and she could hear him lean against the door as his body relaxed for her. That made all of the teasing completely worth it. He was completely and unabashedly hers, exercising all the control he had to keep his hips from thrusting forward. He was wound tight as a wire, trying to make sure that he didn’t overstep. 

Diana took care of that for him. After a few moments of the careful, slow attention her mouth, she drew back, then took him back in once more. Within moments, she had begun to establish the kind of rhythm that she had expected his hips to demand. 

Steve breathed her name as he tried desperately to hang on. His hand drifted down towards her, then paused again. It was as if he didn’t want to touch her and risk breaking down a fantasy. It was completely erotic and only made Diana more intoxicated. On the one hand, she was so aroused that she had begun to squirm in earnest, hips trying to find relief where they could but largely unsuccessful.

On the other hand, Steve’s groans, his determination to let Diana lead the pace, was absolutely arousing and she found herself craving more of it. 

But, Diana had so much more she wanted to do with him. This would not be the last of it. 

Steve’s breathing was growing more ragged by the moment, and with it, Diana’s self- control was falling aside. She reached up, taking hold of his wrist so he could tangle his hand in her hair on her terms. 

“God, Diana….” He moaned, fingers lacing through her hair with far more care than a lesser man would have. “You are amazing…” 

He was getting closer. She could tell. His hips tried to rock forward again, but instead of encouraging it, she pulled back until he was freed from her mouth. He had begun to leak for her, even closer than he had wanted to let on. 

The ragged moan of loss, of shock, and sudden loss of sensation made her almost consider returning to her former actions. 

But she honestly didn’t want to wait any longer. 

Diana rose to her feet, taking his hand in her hair and pulling it free. She kissed his palm, then down to the inside of his wrist before breathing against his skin. “I might finish that some other time…” She said with a bit of a grin. 

Steve watched her for a long moment, dumbstruck. “Oh, you’re  _ evil _ …” He finally said. 

Diana laughed a bit at his indignant, lust-filled complaint. “Oh, am I? Then, I could leave you here, since you’re going to be so ungrateful…” She made a move to put her hand on the doorknob beside him. 

Within moments, Steve’s hands were at her shoulders, pulling her closer. “Not ungrateful, I just…” One of his charming smiles spread across his features as he realized she was letting him press against her. “Sometimes, my mouth runs away from me. I’m sure I can find a way to make this up to you…” 

“You want to make it up to me…” Diana purred, quirking an eyebrow, her still clothed hips brushing against his shaft. “Very well. You can make it up to me, and then I will finish what I started -  _ My _ way.” 

Steve grinned. “Deal.” 

If Diana’s actions had been measured and patient like a flowing river, Steve was a tidal wave. He captured her lips with his and gently walked them back to her desk. He must have known that she was giving him the illusion of control again. She could stop them at any moment, but her body longed for his touch, his mouth,  _ everything _ . 

As her backside bumped the desk, Steve’s hands were already busy unzipping her dress completely. She began to assist, but he held a hand out to stop her. “Let me. Please.” He said with a grin. “It’s only fair.” 

Within moments, Steve had divested her of her dress and undergarments, but he had done it with such care and finesse she felt like it must have taken hours. Once she was finally free of the last item, she felt his hands on her hips, gently urging her up. Diana took a seat on the desk, but for a moment let her passions get the better of her. He had spared a glance up at her as she hopped up on the desk and looked at her with the sort of longing that had given her vivid daydreams to fuel her throughout every day. 

She pulled him close, claiming another kiss, passionate yet still more measured than Steve had been. 

For a moment, it seemed like he would give in, but then he pulled away with great effort so that he could chart his own course. His lips moved to her neck, mirroring the same track she had taken on his body. 

She was sure her kisses could not have felt so hot or electric as Steve’s. 

One of his hands slipped behind her back, holding her close as he kissed down her shoulder, then moved back towards her collarbone and down. Thoroughly interested in where his mouth was travelling, she sat up a bit higher to watch him. 

His mouth found the peak one of her breasts, kisses trailing quickly across the soft flesh for just a moment before immediately finding purchase on one of her nipples. She gasped, a bit sharply, as he didn’t spare her his urgency. His laved his tongue across the bud, making sure it was pert and erect. Satisfied that he had drawn a reaction from her, his lips moved to the other breast to make sure it received the same treatment. 

Diana squirmed, lamenting the fact that he was now between her legs and yet…  _ not _ . There was no relief from the sweet torture, but it was precisely what she wanted from him. 

Thankfully, Steve’s own impatience was just as physically present and seemed to build his sense of urgency for her. His mouth began to move further south as he dropped out of sight for the moment and his lips became her primary concern. 

Diana let her eyes slide closed as she felt his lips trail that same hot sensation down her stomach to her hips, then finally down to her inner thigh. A moment later, she felt his fingers at her soft folds, teasing and playing with the visible wetness that she had been coping with for quite some time. 

Yet his lips remained on her thigh, and his fingers remained kept up their careful exploration. 

“Steve, do not tease me, by the gods, I don’t have that kind of patience…” She finally said with a bit of a breathless laugh. When she opened her eyes to glance down at him, she felt her stomach flip at the sight of his head between her legs, mouth dangerously close to her lips. She bit her lip again, completely thrown for a moment. 

He obliged. He shifted, his tongue slowly lapping along her lips as his fingers carefully parted them further. Within moments, he clearly found what he was looking for. 

Diana gasped, moaning softly as his tongue brushed against her clit, reminding her how desperately wrong Clio was wrong about men. They could  _ absolutely _ be essential to pleasure. “Steve…” She breathed his name in absolute gratitude and satisfaction as his tongue began to lap at her quickly. 

Within moments, he had her full attention, sending shocks of pleasure down her spine, through her body, making her moan in between ragged gasps. She had been so turned on hearing what she could do to him, the slow torture of the game, that now she was a hair trigger. 

Diana slipped her hand down to him, raking her fingers through his hair before holding firm. As if had taken that as a request, his tongue sped up even faster. She buckled, moaning. With her free hand, she quickly grabbed the edge of the desk for support. He was drawing the most delicious climax out of her and it had taken no time at all. She wouldn’t need much more to finally give in to the building sensation. 

Two of his fingers were suddenly there, playing with the wetness of her lips before delving deeper. With something to clench around, Diana couldn’t hold back. A string of curses flowed from her lips with ease as she drew closer and closer. 

“Steve... “ She gasped his name, only for his tongue to somehow keep up its frantic pace. “I’m… I can’t…” She cried out, swearing the names of several gods as the orgasm overtook her. Diana seized up, going still as the first shockwave struck her, then fell back onto the desk with a long, low moan as her hips rocked. She clenched around his fingers, pulsing and quivering for a long moment as she rode out the release she’d been hoping for. 

Steve pulled away, satisfied with himself as he stood and licked his fingers clean. His other hand reached out to pet her stomach, watching her with a mixture of adoration and lust that Diana recognized all too well. 

After another moment to recover, she finally sat up and took hold of his arm so she could rise. She drew him close, kissing him and steering him towards her desk chair. She could taste herself on his lips, and her scent filled her senses. It wasn’t in her nature to be terribly possessive, but there was something alluring about knowing that he would smell like her for the rest of the evening now. 

As she finally set him down in the desk chair, Diana straddled his hips and laced her arms around his neck so she could kiss him one last time. There was very little she could say, or could think to say, but she knew she had to make her point crystal clear. 

“I want you to remember this anytime I don’t answer your call, or you find me working here.” Diana breathed against his lips before sitting up. With one hand, she shifted so she could mount him, the head of his cock teasing against her wet lips. “No matter where I am, I always want you, Steve.” 

Diana slowly sank down onto him, buckling under the intense sensation of fullness. Words fell away for the moment as the two of them took the time to simply… drink it in. As she took a moment to adjust, to let her already pliable muscles grow a little more accustomed to his size, she sought out his hands. With ease, she directed his palms to her breasts, both greedily wanting the sensation and wanting to give him the silent reminder that all in front of him could be touched and caressed. 

He took the silent hint, drawing her closer until he could kiss her again. His hips rocked up into her, drawing a gasp out of them both. Steve smiled against her lips, then panted, “Diana, you feel perfect…”  He shifted his arm behind her back, splaying his fingers across in a motion that reminded her of the Bernini sculpture. 

All of the teasing and torture had come down to this moment, and it was absolutely worth it. In fact, she was fairly determined she would want to play this particular game of wits with him again in the future. 

But, for the present, she just wanted to feel Steve all over. She wanted his hands on her, his cock in her, and his lips against her. Leaning back, Diana took advantage of Steve’s support on her back to draw herself up, then lower back down. Steve’s eyes were locked on the way he disappeared into her as she took him to the hilt, then drew back again. He felt tailor-made for her. 

Diana began to ride him in earnest, her hands on his as he massaged her breasts and groaned from her movements. 

The two of them were utterly caught up. Steve began to breath her name, then kept pulling her closer. Obliging, Diana pried his hand from her breast so she could lace her fingers with his and lean over him. The hand on her back tightened as she shifted them so she could ride him hard, pinning his other hand over his head on the back of the chair. 

She was so close, already thoroughly worked by him earlier, and he had been ready for her since she had taken him into her mouth. As she was dictating the pace, she could tell that his hips were trying to speed up, but she wouldn’t let them. 

“Diana,  _ please _ , I need to come, you’re driving me crazy…” Steve babbled, begging her for release as she kept their pace to the speed she wanted. “Angel,  _ please _ ....” As if he forgot that he was speaking aloud, he muttered. “I’m going to smell like you all night now…” 

That reminder was enough to break her. Holding his hand tighter, Diana shifted so she could speed up, carrying the both of them to the end. Sitting up so that she could have more leverage, she felt his hand slip from her back, only to feel his thumb against her clit without hesitation. 

Diana moaned his name, legs shaking. The rhythm faltered as she drew closer, then finally came again, hips going still as she seized around his cock. She pulsed around him for a moment, then was reward with a few more fast thrusts up from him. 

Steve groaned her name and finally let go. She could feel his hips jerk as he came in her, but she refused to let him move. 

It wasn’t until he completely relaxed beneath him that she released her grip on his hand and simply leaned forward so she could kiss him and catch her breath. 

For a long moment, the two of them simply basked in the afterglow. 

Eventually, Diana’s affectionate kisses turned to nuzzles and kisses along his jaw. “I love you, Steve…” 

“I love you, too….” He breathed, his hand having moved to her back once more, clearly to hug her. Then, as an afterthought, he chuckled a bit. “Erection that Priapus would feel sorry for? Really? Every time I walk in here?"

Diana glanced up at him, grinning from ear to ear. “Every time. I promise you.” 


End file.
